William didn't hesitate. He flipped his body around the spear, gripping it like a gymnast on a pole. With a clean, precise motion, he delivered a sharp whip kick to Karon's left wrist. The force of the strike made Karon release his grip on the spear, his claws forced open.
William landed on the ground, gripping the spear tightly as he straightened himself.
Karon, despite his injuries, recovered quickly. A veteran of countless battles, he touched the empty socket where his right eye once was and then traced his claws over the wound on his chest. His flesh began to knit itself back together at an alarming speed.
But his missing eye that would never grow back.
For the first time, Karon's grim confidence faltered. This wasn't how he had expected the battle to go.
